1. Played tennis on clay for the first time today. It was so weird at first; I couldn't time my shots properly and the bounce of the ball against the ground produced an unfamiliar sound which seemed to echo in the air, somehow, as it ricocheted off my racquet. The clay also seemed to absorb some of the impact of the ball against the ground; as a result, it felt really strange during the first 15 minutes or so. It didn't help that I played facing the sun so I couldn't see where exactly the ball was. When I went to the shaded end, however, I finally felt like I was playing tennis again. The good thing about playing on clay is that the ball travels slower which gives you more time to set up your shot - which means it's great for people that want to focus more on getting the shot right than getting the results.
I couldn't move properly at first because the surface is rather slippery, but towards the end, I started dragging my feet through the dirt which replicated some sort of sliding movement. The guy I played with could slide quite well and I was really impressed. That said, I probably have better strokes. I just lose all the time because I have no stamina to keep running for the ball.
Anyway, that was a nice two hours well-spent. It almost makes up for how cold I was after tennis. When the sun sets on Den Haag, it's time to escape indoors.
2. I don't really know how long this will last, but right now, I think it is ridiculous how Wouter reduces me to a giggly, blushing 17-year-old. Last night, he came to Den Haag to see me again and for some reason, I found myself completely smitten from the second he arrived. At the restaurant (Deluca; he didn't want to go in at first because he comically said it was full of old people; but Den Haag doesn't offer a lot of dining options for dinner), I literally had to go to the toilet twice to compose myself. He sat across the table from me, looking rather gorgeous, and everytime I looked at him I collapsed into a fit of giggles. Such ridiculous behaviour really does not become me. In the toilet, I took a few deep breaths and told myself to calm down before I went back to the table. That was how drastic the situation was.
We went to a cocktail bar at Grote Markt after dinner. We sat by the window on stools next to each other. Oh my god. We probably spent half the time kissing; most of the other half was spent laughing, especially when he 'spoke' Singlish (especially 'wah lau'). There was great electricity in the air last night: the eye contact, the narrowing distance between us, the few pregnant seconds of tension and anticipation before his lips met mine. And the aftermath: me looking at him with an expression on my face like, in his words, I had a crush on him; and him looking back at me quite tenderly.
He likes my dimples as much as I like his. When he was at the bar ordering drinks, I snuck a peek at him as I couldn't resist checking him out. After a few sips of my mojito, I told him, 'I think you're really hot.'
He ended up spending the night at mine for the simple reason that he was about to miss his train back to Amsterdam. It went better than I'd expected (i.e. I expected it to be disastrous). I barely got any sleep though, not because anything was happening, but because it was difficult for me to sleep with someone next to me (especially a hot guy). That is not to say that nothing happened, but let's not go there.
I'm spending my Saturday in Amsterdam, possibly doing touristy things, and definitely getting on the back of his bicycle. I can't wait.
So tired omg. Slept 3 hours, was dying over French judgment at work, and played tennis for two hours. I hope I don't fall ill from tonight.